Daughter of Death?
by Gods Eater Shio
Summary: It was the same routine everyday. Wake up, go too the realms with his brothers, punish the wicked, and go home. But, When Death and Fury are summoned by the Charred Council for a special task, no one is prepared for what happens they discover.


_**Death**_

Death and Fury knelt before the Charred Council, awaiting their acknowledgment. Finally, the head in the center of the three present spoke sharply. **"Rise, Horsemen. We have a new assignment for you."** Both horsemen stood up, and looked at the skull-like head intently. **"We have discovered a, difficulty."** The Horsemen watched as a small portal opened not far in front of them, and a small girl no older than thirteen fell out. Her wrists and neck were chained together with heavy shackles, and her neck and wrists were bloody and raw. She had long black hair that reached about two inches past her waist. But, it was damp with blood and sweat, and she was unconscious. "What is this?" Death asked, irritated, although he didn't know why. The head on the right casually replied, **"She is one of the five Nephillim that did not die when you and your brothers destroyed them."** Fury looked confused, as did Death. "But we destroyed them all…" Fury began. The head on the left interrupted her, **"But the daughter of Death escaped the onslaught, somehow."** Death's eyes widened. "How did you…" he began. However, the head in the center interrupted, **"know? Well, angels can be very… cooperative." **Death scowled. He remembered his daughter…

_**Flashback**_

_**A small girl ran through the crowds of Nephillim, trying to get away from all the blood and death. Death, her father. She wished she could have joined him and her uncles and aunt, but the Charred Council would only allow four to be the chosen ones. The "Fifth" would have to come from the Kingdom of Man, or so they had said. She was torn from those thoughts as a scythe tore through her torso. And who else should it belong to, than her own father. Her father stopped his phantom horse a few feet away from her, dismounting. He walked to her, and, thinking her limp body was that of a dead one, he kissed her forehead, and closed her eyes gently. But as she was about to pass into unconsciousness, she felt a tear fall on her cheek.**_

_**Present**_

"**Horsemen, you are charged with the duty of training this girl to be the Fifth Horseman, just as you are now." **All of the heads continued in unison, **"Do you accept the task, Horsemen?" **The pair nodded, and said, "Yes masters." Death opened a portal, as Fury gently picked the girl up, and followed Death to the shared home of the Horsemen.

_**?**_

I woke up on a soft, comfortable bed, with no shackles, and bandages wrapped around my wounds. I looked around the room that I was in, and I was shocked to see stone walls with chains draped all over them. It looked as if several large objects had once been hanging up, but apparently they had all been removed. Large weapons, most likely. I got out of the bed, my neck feeling very painful as I did so. There were two tiny windows on either side of the bed, but I could still see quite clearly out of them. I looked out of the window, and I wasn't impressed with what I saw. This place was surrounded by a vast, bland, and gray wasteland. However, at that moment, there was a soft knock on the door, and a woman with fiery red hair entered, her hair seeming to be alive as it flowed like a fiery river. She brought with her a small bowl with an herb mixture, and fresh bandages for my already bloody ones. A man followed her, with a skull-like mask, and black hair that went to his shoulders. He looked very pale, and the woman wasn't all that tan herself. The woman sat down next to me, peeling off the bandages. She gently rubbed the herb mixture into my scabbed and raw skin, taking care not to push on my neck too hard. But as she worked on my wrists, I couldn't help but ask: "Who are you people?" The man, leaning against one side of the doorway, chuckled. I looked up at him in fear and confusion. "I am Death, and that is my sister, Fury," he said. "Fury" rolled her eyes, and finished dressing my wounds. "We didn't catch your name," she said. I looked down at my wrists. "Deja," I said. "My name is Deja."

_**1 Week later**_

_**Death**_

Death led Deja to a large underground chamber, filled with weapons, and tools for blacksmithing. In the center of the chamber was a large and fiery pit, full of melted iron and stone that was red hot and glowing. He left Deja on one side of the pit, and walked to the other. Over the past week, Deja had become skilled in the use of almost every weapon that Death could find, whether it be blades, whips, or even guns. War, Fury, and Strife were waiting in the room above, for each had something that they must attend to with the child. Fury had to outfit Deja with armor, War STILL had to train her with the larger, heavier blades, and Strife had to help her master her use of sorcery. Death, however, was going to find out exactly which weapon would be hers, and it would be unique. But, as Death watched, the short hilt of a flimsy knife emerged from the fiery liquid. Oh well, it was only natural. Each Horseman's personal armament had started out as some sort of flimsy, weak hunk of metal, except for Fury's, and it had started out as a simple chain no longer than her. But, there was a spire at the top of their large home that had five pedestals, and the one in the center was tallest. Each of them, when light hit the spire right, would have a colored light cast upon them, due to enchanted crystals that were situated perfectly to refract the light, and hit only the pedestal it was aimed for. Death's crystal had, of course, been a shadow amethyst. Strife's was a dragon emerald, Fury's was a spirit sunstone, and War's was a fire ruby. Each was a derivation of the sun's power. However, they had all had to stand in the path of the crystals' magic when the sun was directly over the spire. But the fifth horseman, well, that was another matter. His or her crystal was a Elestial sapphire. And the crystal did not derive it's power from the sun, but from the moon. However, when the Horsemen had stood there, waiting for their powers to come to them, their weapons had formed as the power came. So, Death assumed that the flimsy little knife would tak it's true form once Deja received her true powers. Death tossed the knife to her, and walked quickly out of the hot chamber, with Deja following close behind.

_**Fury**_

Fury stood back and admired her work. The armor fit Deja perfectly, although even she had to admit: it was quite bland. It was almost exactly like Fury's own armor, with a bit of a mix of War's and Strife's sets, but it lacked color. Deja wore a black skin tight suit that went from her neck to her ankles, and ended right at the top of her shoulders. Other than that, she had a thin, flowing, war torn cape about knee length trailing behind her, but instead of just wrapping around her neck like a scarf, it scaffolded into a hood much like that of War's, but all of her clothing was white with silver trim, except for her black suit. She bore a black tattoo on her left shoulder, which represented the mark of the Horsemen. From the elbows down were black fingerless gloves, and about an inch above them, on both of Deja's muscular but thin arms, were silver rings that held very small but sharp throwing knives. Death entered the room,, and asked, "Comfortable?" Deja smiled, and replied, "Somewhat, yes." Fury could tell that their connection was growing stronger every day. Father and daughter were bonding, at last. Fury put her hands on her hips, and leaned to one side. "Well, if you're ready, we'll send you off to Strife. He's hell bent on training you right, so he'll need his time," she said. Deja smiled again. "Oh well. I guess it wouldn't hurt to learn sorcery first."

_**Strife**_

Strife watched in awe, as Deja connected almost instantly to the creatures and life around her. They were in a quite peaceful garden; one that Fury had made herself for when she wanted to be alone. Strife was watching from the tall green trees as Deja meditated on a small flat rock, in the center of an enchanted pond. There were four tiny waterfalls at the north, east, south, and west points of the garden, and the water was enchanted. Deja was extremely focused, and even the birds of the garden were singing a tune that was peaceful. Deja had learned how to use sorcery in every way, although she couldn't actually cast the spells. But she did know the incantations, even if she had not gained her powers yet. That would not happen until she transformed. Now, all she was doing was learning how to control her emotions, like her deep anger toward the Demoness Lillith, who had killed her adoptive sister, back on Earth. So far, Strife was pleased with her progress, although she still needed more work. Finally, after at least a half of an hour, Strife spoke, "Remember that in order to be a good fighter, you must be physically, mentally, and even emotionally stable. If you can master these aspects, then you will be unstoppable." He leapt down to her from the trees, landing right behind her. Then, to his surprise, the water from the enchanted pond began to form a dome over the girl. Strife leapt out of the way, as a ring of fire, earth, and air spun around the watery dome. His eyes widened. This couldn't be happening. Deja may be a master at the incantations of sorcery, but to control the elements was only able to be done by the highest skilled sorcerers. The only way the Horsemen could even do so was to combine their powers and stay together the entire time the spell was performed. But then, Strife yelled, "Deja!" and all of the earth, fire, and air disappeared. The water fell back to it's original position, but Deja was standing, shaking furiously. He may have not known her very long, but Deja was still his niece, so naturally, Strife was instantly by her side. She stopped her shaking after a few moments, and Strife noticed a shiny golden chain around her neck, glowing with a light blue aura. It's decoration piece was a sun, with part of "Your necklace," he whispered. "It was not the source of that magic, no," Death said, walking into the garden from the small door that served as it's entrance. Death walked over to his daughter, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "When she was born, some of my power was passed down to her. You don't have to be a Horseman to perform that kind of magic, in fact, to do it by yourself requires even more power than all of our powers combined." Deja looked up at him. "But Death, only your power was passed down to me. How am I stronger than all four of you?" she asked. "A wise question. However, the Crowfather would be the only one able to answer that, and he is in the city of the Dead, where you are not to go before your transformation. Got it?" Death said. I nodded, and he continued, "Now, make haste, and go see War. He still has much to teach you before daylight's end."

_**War**_

War lifted Deja's arm to the correct posture, and backed away, testing to see which weight of sword was best for her. After three large swords, she had had to let go of them after thirty minutes. But finally, she was able to support a simple wooden model of a katana blade, even though she did best with a bow and arrow. War carried a wooded model of his own sword, Chaoseater, and circled around her, waiting for her to pounce. She did, and War easily knocked her aside as if she were a simple hellhound. He attacked, and knocked her flat against the stone walls of the training arena. But as he attempted to deliver the final blow, she ducked, bringing her weapon up to War's throat as she jumped in the air and landed on the large wooden sword. She grinned with delight. He threw her off the sword, however, refusing to lose to a child. But he had taught her too well. She was able to dodge his every attack after that, and parry each swing of his sword. She jumped in the air, doing a backflip above War, but this time, she was unprepared for what War did. He let her attack him, leaving his weak spots open to her. It had the desired affect that War had wanted to see. Confusion. He leapt at her in her moment of weakness, and delivered a death blow to the chest with the tip of his sword. She raised her hands, and laid the wooden katana on the ground. "Very well," she said. "You win, uncle." War smirked, and lowered his makeshift sword. "Never let your enemies confuse you. If you do that, you're as good as dead," he said."Training is over. It is past sundown. You may be Nephillim, but you still need your rest. We will all discuss your progress in the morning."

_**Deja **_

I walked into my small room, which had been modified to more suit my taste. Dark blue drapes covered every window in the room, allowing almost no light in when they were drawn. My bed was more comfortable than it used to be, but it wasn't perfect, either. I sat down, rubbing my shoulders. They were throbbing with pain from swinging heavy blades all day, and my mind actually hurt from all the incantations that I had memorized. I took off all of my armor, leaving on just my undergarments so that I could sleep. I slowly laid back, pain shooting up my arms, neck, and back. I rested my head on the pillow, and just before I drifted off into sleep, I knew I saw Death standing in the corner again, his scythes glinting in the moonlight, and his eyes softly glowing a dark shade of red-orange.


End file.
